


Heart of a Martyr

by cutelittlekitty



Series: Heavenly Body [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU-modern setting, Car Sex, Destiel - Freeform, Hand Jobs, Karaoke, Multi, Starts out a touch angsty but ends sweetly, bottom!Castiel, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 00:11:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14800589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutelittlekitty/pseuds/cutelittlekitty
Summary: Dean wakes to a scrabbling rustle of sheets and a cool rush of air against his back.  "Cas?" he mumbles sleepily, sitting up and looking around.  The man he went home with last night is wedged in the corner between the headboard and nightstand, knees pulled up to his chest encircled by his arms, staring at Dean in wide-eyed alarm.  "Hey, whoa, are you ok Cas?" he asks cautiously, reaching a hand toward him then stopping, not wanting to distress him further.Cas blinks at him for several long moments, trembling, then "Dean?  Dean.""Yeah.  You asked me to stay last night, remember?""That's right.  I did.  Last night... I... We..." Cas trails off, remembering, then his eyes cloud over and he hunches in on himself.  "Sorry, you should go.""Did I do something wrong?" Dean asks, moving to sit on his knees facing Cas, though still a non-threatening distance away.Cas shakes his head vehemently.





	Heart of a Martyr

Dean wakes to a scrabbling rustle of sheets and a cool rush of air against his back. "Cas?" he mumbles sleepily, sitting up and looking around. The man he went home with last night is wedged in the corner between the headboard and nightstand, knees pulled up to his chest encircled by his arms, staring at Dean in wide-eyed alarm. "Hey, whoa, are you ok Cas?" he asks cautiously, reaching a hand toward him then stopping, not wanting to distress him further.

Cas blinks at him for several long moments, trembling, then "Dean? Dean."

"Yeah. You asked me to stay last night, remember?"

"That's right. I did. Last night... I... We..." Cas trails off, remembering, then his eyes cloud over and he hunches in on himself. "Sorry, you should go."

"Did I do something wrong?" Dean asks, moving to sit on his knees facing Cas, though still a non-threatening distance away.

Cas shakes his head vehemently.

"What's wrong?"

Cas just shakes his head again.

"I can't help if you won't talk to me," Dean says softly, slowly reaching a hand toward Cas, hoping to calm him. Cas jumps up, hitting a shin against the nightstand as he stumbles over it but managing to land on his feet.

"I... sorry, you need to go. I'm going to shower, I shouldn't have asked you to stay, you need to go, I- shower," he stammers as he dashes out of the bedroom.

"Son of a bitch," Dean sighs as he hears the bathroom door shut. He doesn't know what's wrong and he doesn't know how to help. This doesn't seem like normal morning-after regret. Getting up, he sifts through the discarded clothes on the floor, folding Cas's and putting his own on, then goes out and knocks on the bathroom door. "Cas? Are you ok?"

"Fine," Cas calls through the door, voice sounding a bit off. "I'm fine. Um, thank you. For... Um... You should go now."

Dean sighs. There's no way he can leave Cas like this; something's obviously very wrong, but he doesn't know him well enough to know what it is. Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he pulls out his phone to check the time. It's 7:12 am. Staring at the phone's display, he remembers exchanging numbers with Charlie last night. That had been so she could call him if he fucked up with Cas, but under the circumstances he thinks it'll be ok for him to call her. As the shower starts running he dials and heads back into the bedroom, checking to make sure he hasn't left anything as the phone rings.

_"Yeah?" a sleepy voice answers._

"Charlie?"

_"Hang on.. *yawn*... (babe! phone!)... ... She's in the shower, can she call you back?"_

"Meg?"

_"Yeah. Who's this?"_

"Dean. From the bar last night, with Cas?"

_"Oh, hey, so how was the little android? Anatomically correct or smooth like a Ken doll?"_

"I'm sure I'd have a snappy comeback if I wasn't busy freaking out. I need to talk to Charlie, now. Give her the phone please?"

_"Yeah, yeah, no need to get snippy. ... *shower sounds* (Dean ... Cas's, from last night) ... *water turning off* Dean? *kiss sound* (going back to bed)"_

"Charlie?"

_"Yeah, what's up?"_

"I'm worried about Cas. When we woke up this morning he kinda freaked or someth-"

_"Wait, you stayed the night?"_

"Well, yeah, he asked me to."

_"In the same bed?"_

"Yeah?"

_"Wow, that's... I don't think he's ever slept in the same bed with anyone."_

"Really? He did seem kinda surprised when he woke up, maybe a bit scared, but when I reminded him he asked me to stay last night he seemed like he was calming down, then he kinda froze up, curled in on himself, then he bolted and locked himself in the bathroom and told me to leave and he doesn't sound like he's ok but he says he's fine but I'm scared to leave him alone and he won't tell me what's wrong and-"

_"Dean! Slow down. Breathe."_

"*deep breath* Sorry, I'm kinda freakin' out here."

_"Don't worry, he'll be alright. I'll be there in five, don't leave yet."_

"Ok-" Dean starts to say but she's already hung up. With nothing to do while he waits he makes up the bed, puts the lube and condoms back in their drawer, doesn't find anything else to do so heads to the hallway to wait by the door but Charlie's already letting herself in when he's halfway there. She's wearing sweats and a faded t-shirt with her hair wrapped in a towel and considering how fast she got here she must live in the same building.

"I need coffee," she says, waving Dean toward the kitchen as she heads to the bathroom door. "Cas? Hey, let me in." Surprisingly, the door opens, though the shower is still running, and she steps inside.

Not wanting to leave 'til he knows Cas is ok, Dean obeys Charlie's implied directive and heads to the kitchen, exploring guiltily 'til he finds the coffee and filters. As he gets the coffee maker ready Dean realizes the shower has turned off, and he can just barely hear the mumbled sounds of voices until the sound of percolating water drowns them out. Grabbing a mug from the cupboard, he pours himself a cup before the pot's even half full, not caring how strong he knows it's going to be, then goes to lean against the island and takes a sip of the hot, bitter brew. Several minutes later he's examining the cup, which has a cartoony bee in the middle with the phrase 'As long as there's coffee' above it and 'everything will bee ok' below, when Charlie comes out of the bathroom and the shower turns back on.

"What was wrong? Is he going to be ok?" Dean asks as Charlie goes and helps herself to a cup of coffee.

Charlie sighs and takes a sip. "He asked me not to tell you, but yeah, I think it'll be ok; he just needs time to work through some things."

"Was it- Did I do something wrong?" Dean worries.

"No, I think you did the opposite of something wrong," replies Charlie, giving Dean a sympathetic look.

"What's that mean?"

"Sorry, that's getting into the 'promised not to tell' area. But I gotta ask, and I know the morning after is waaay to soon to really be seriously thinking about it, but, how do you feel about him?"

Dean considers carefully before answering, refilling his cup and taking a long sip. "I like him. A lot. I mean, hell, I've never stayed the night on a hook-up before, even when invited. But then, I don't think I ever thought of it as just a hookup, more like the first night of, hopefully, many. But I guess that's" Dean swallows around the unexpected lump in his throat, "not gonna happen now."

"I honestly don't know. The way he's talking right now, yeah, he doesn't want to see you again," Charlie explains, rubbing Dean's shoulder understandingly. "But I think he's using faulty logic. I can't guarantee he'll change his mind, but I think if you both give it some time, if you're still thinking about each other after a few weeks, months, then..." She shrugs, finishes her coffee and pours another cup as the shower shuts off again.

"So you think I should go and just hope he comes around?" Dean asks, balking at the idea of leaving it up to chance. Charlie nods. "I'll go," he sighs, glancing at the bathroom door, "but at least let me put my number in his phone so he can get a hold of me if he wants."

"Can't. Can you believe he actually doesn't have one?" she shudders.

"Really? Who doesn't have a phone these days?"

"Cas, apparently. Insists he doesn't like them and doesn't need one. Though he does still have a land line," she adds, sliding a pad of paper and pen toward Dean.

He grabs the pen and starts to write:

  
I really, _really_  
would like to see you again.  
please call me if you want to talk  
or if there's anything I can do  
**(866) 907-3235**  
Dean  


He hands the note to Charlie with a sigh. "Please tell him... tell him I really mean it, that I'm serious, and... ... I'm trying to respect his wishes, but I _really hate_ leaving without saying goodbye."

"Charlie?" Cas calls through the bathroom door.

"Just a minute, Cas, I'll be right there," she yells back, then turns to Dean. "I'm sorry, Cas is complicated, but I'm rooting for you; I think you'd be good for him." She gives Dean an impulsive hug, then shoos him toward the door before heading for the bathroom.

"Is he gone?" Dean hears Cas ask as he closes the apartment door behind him.

Feeling more disappointed than he has any right to be, Dean heads back to the parking garage, taking the stairs for no reason he can name.

 

*****

 

Dean sighs, shoving his fingers through his hair. It's been over four months since he met Cas, and though he's called Charlie for frequent updates, Cas himself hasn't called once. After the first six weeks, Charlie had grudgingly suggested it didn't seem like Cas was going to change his mind, and maybe Dean should give up, move on, find someone else. Dean had seriously thought about it, even gone out to the bar a few times (not the Blue Diamond, where he'd met Cas, but the Roadhouse, where he'd spent enough time growing up, since his dad and the owner's husband were best friends, that it felt more like home than any of the places they'd lived), but he rarely found anyone there attractive or interesting and on the few occasions he did, he'd find himself picking out things that reminded him of Cas. He gave up trying over a month ago. Now he spends what free time he has either zoning out in front of the tv (because who doesn't love a good Doctor Who or X Files or Buffy marathon?), or working on his 'scraptures' as he calls them, sculptures made of scraps from Uncle Bobby's salvage yard. Like scrap sculptures, but in his mind he leaves off the first "s". But it's just something he does for himself; keeps his hands busy, lets his mind drift.

No tv or sculpting tonight though. Sam flew in this afternoon and they're meeting up after he's gotten settled in his hotel room (since Sam's too good for Dean's crappy couch, and refuses to let Dean give up his bed). It's Friday, and Dean got the evil idea into his head to make Sammy sing in public, which he hates though he's really not too bad, so they've arranged to meet at the Blue Diamond around eight. Of course Dean called Charlie before even suggesting it, to make sure Cas wouldn't be there. He wants to see him. God, he wants to see him so much. But seeing a Cas who doesn't want to see him would be excruciating, and why does he feel that way when he only spent one night with the guy? What the fuck is wrong with him? Dean's not some creepy stalker, why's he so fixated on a guy he barely knows? It doesn't matter. Charlie said Cas has gone to karaoke a few more times in the past four months, when Charlie assured him Dean wouldn't be there, but he wasn't planning on going tonight so no problems. Right? Right.

"Hey Gabe, can I get a beer?" Dean asks as he grabs a stool at the bar, a voice in the back of his mind pointing out it's the same one he'd sat in when he met Cas.

Gabe does a theatrical double-take. "Well, Dean Winchester, you ditch me for four months and think you can just saunter back in here and ask me for a beer?"

"Yes?"

"Damn skippy," Gabe says with a grin, pouring a beer and sliding it over.

"How've you been?" Dean asks, taking a sip.

"Same old same old. Fridays and Saturdays have picked up a bit since we added the karaoke. Other than that, business as usual."

"So a new guy or girl or both every night and pranks on any asshats dumb enough to come in here?" Dean teases.

"Pretty much. Quite a few of your regular screws have been asking where you've been. You didn't do something dumb like get yourself a steady, did you?"

Dean laughs. "Basically the opposite of that. Just takin' some time off from meaningless sex." Slapping Gabe's hand away from his forehead when he pretends to take Dean's temperature, Dean gives a rueful grin. "No, seriously, I just haven't been in the mood."

"For four months?"

"Be right back," Dean shrugs, avoiding the question by wandering over to where the karaoke is setting up. A few other patrons have gone over while Dean was talking to Gabe, and when he looks, the signup page is already half-full. Grinning, he signs Sammy up, then puts himself down after since it'd be pretty douchey to make his brother do something he himself wouldn't. That done, he heads back to the bar, where Gabe's attention has been taken by other customers, and sits, looking around the room to see who's there. He recognizes a good half the patrons but none of his regular fuck-buddies are there. Well, former regular fuck-buddies, or whatever. Dean just hasn't been the same since Cas. In some ways, he's been more like himself; spending time doing things he's always enjoyed like sculpting and tinkering. In other ways he's not been himself at all; avoiding the bar scene with its friends and casual sex that had taken up most of his free time before. A hand waving in front of his face snaps him out of his reverie.

"Earth to Dean," Sam says, grinning at him.

"Sammy!" Dean says, setting his beer down, jumping up and giving his big little brother a hug.

"I told you not to call me that, Dean; I'm not a kid anymore. And are you alright?" he adds, feeling Dean's forehead as though checking for a fever. "Been replaced by a clone? Since when are you a hugger?"

"Hey, I may not be a hugger, but you are. Figured I should preempt you."

"Yeah, sure," Sam chuckles, though he casts a surreptitious look at Dean from the corner of his eyes as he sits at the bar and says "Hey, bartender, can I get a beer here?"

"Sure thing, sexy; what kind you want?" Gabe asks with a predatory grin.

"Whatever's on tap."

"Hmm, for you, I got somethin' better than beer if you don't mind drinkin' it direct from the tap."

"Dude! No! Gabe, that's my brother!" Dean shouts, shuddering at the image of Gabe using his usual pick-up line (that rarely works) on his little bro.

Gabe looks back and forth between Sam and Dean, eyebrows raised. "Really? You two? Brothers? You don't look alike at all. Guess tall, hot, and dreamy here got all the good genes."

"Gabe," Dean warns.

"Ok, ok, don't get your panties in a bunch," says Gabe as he pours Sam's beer and hands it to him. "On the house, in apology for my shameless flirting."

"Thanks," Sam chuckles, and says something else but Dean doesn't hear because Cas just walked through the door and the rest of the world disappeared.

"Bathroom," Dean blurts out before heading quickly for the hallway that leads to the restrooms. He doesn't think Cas saw him but he stays plastered against the wall around the corner out of view, listening. He hears Charlie telling Cas and Meg to get a booth while she gets drinks. Two Bloody Marys and a Dr. Pepper no ice later he hears her walk off and peeks around the corner. She walks over to the corner booth on the opposite side of the room from the one she and Meg had been kissing in the night he met Cas. If he sits at this end of the bar, Cas won't be able to see him. He does so and waves Gabe over, though it takes several tries to pry him away from where he's leaning across the bar talking to Sam. "Hey, can you ask Sammy to bring my coat and drink over here?" he asks when Gabe finally notices him.

"Why can't you do it yourself?"

"Gabe. Please?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure," he says, and goes back over to Sam.

A minute later Sam comes over, handing Dean his coat and taking the stool beside him. Gabe comes too, handing Dean his beer and a fresh one to Sam. "Why the seat change?" Sam asks.

"Too noisy over there," Dean replies, though there's not much difference in sound level here. Gabe gives him a suspicious look but doesn't say anything. "So what were you two talking about?"

Sam sputters into his beer and Gabe thumps him on the back. "Nothing," he says when he's able to talk, looking away at the guy singing 'Hurt So Good' by John Mellencamp. 

Dean knows he's trying to conceal the color staining his cheeks but really, if Sam wants to hide it he shouldn't be blushing up to the tips of his ears. Of course, Sammy forgets about the blush when the song ends and the dj calls Sam Winchester up to the mic.

"What the fuck, Dean?" Sam demands, turning accusingly on his brother.

Dean shrugs. "I wanted to hear you sing. C'mon, everyone else is doin' it. Don't keep your adoring public waiting," he teases pushing Sam off his stool and toward the mic as the dj calls his name again. Sam gives Dean a hard glare, but goes up to the mic anyway, groaning as the first notes of 'Piano Man' by Billy Joel start. Over the intro, Sammy says "Fuck you, Dean," and flips him the bird, but starts to sing on cue anyway. He doesn't do too badly and when the song's over, he smirks at Dean as the dj calls him up next.

Fuck. Dean forgot he'd put a song in for himself too. Of course Cas is gonna see him now, but he's not douchey enough to bail out on the request he'd put in himself, especially when Sammy sang even when he hadn't signed up. As he goes up to the mic, he keeps his head down, trying not to look at Cas, but he still glances from under his eyelashes and sees Charlie pulling a half-standing Cas back into the booth, whispering something to him under her breath. Dean reaches the mic and wishes he'd put a different song in, something aimed at Cas and the way he feels about him, but when he'd signed up, he hadn't thought Cas would be there. So he sings Kansas's 'Carry on Wayward Son', trying to focus on the words on the screen. Of course since Dean knows them by heart, they don't hold his attention and he winds up casting glances at Cas, startled to find him staring at Dean with a look of pain on his face. He still manages to do a decent job but leaves the stage as soon as the lyrical part is over, leaving it empty while the last 40 seconds or so of music play. Before he can let himself think too much about it, he dashes over to Cas's booth. "Cas, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I thought you weren't going to be here tonight," he shoots a glare at Charlie. "But that was the only song I had in and I'm just going to hang in the corner at the bar so you won't have to see me, please don't look like that, and please don't leave, I know how much you love to sing, and I promise I won't bother you again." Dean says it all in a rush, then gives one last glare at Charlie before practically running back to his seat at the bar. Downing his beer, he thumps the empty glass back on the bar and asks Gabe for another.

"You okay?" Gabe asks as he pours.

"Fine."

"If that's 'fine' I'd hate to see 'not fine'."

"Just gimme my beer, Gabe," he grumbles, grabbing the full glass from Gabe and taking another long drink, though not guzzling it this time.

"Something you wanna talk about?" Sam asks.

"Nope." 

"Suit yourself," Sammy shrugs, then goes back to talking with Gabe.

Dean tunes the conversation out, listening instead to the people going up to sing as thoughts of Cas fill his mind. Three or four songs later, the sound of his name pulls him out of his fog and he turns to find Charlie standing there, fidgeting nervously.

"Can I talk to you? In private?" she asks, and Dean wavers between telling her to fuck off or yelling at her, and decides on the latter.

"Sure," Dean says, sliding off his stool and following her into the empty bathroom hallway. "What the fuck!" he demands when they're alone. "Why the hell did you bring him here, you _knew_ I was going to be here tonight!"

"Dean, please hear me out," she begs, taking a deep breath when Dean gives a curt nod for her to continue. "I didn't bring him here to hurt him, or you. Dean, he's been miserable and he gets even worse if I so much as mention your name. He made me promise not to tell you, and I've respected that, but, I never thought he made the right decision, never thought it would work, but he was so scared; he was f'ing terrified, and I didn't want him to get hurt, but he's hurting anyway and you've kept calling so it's obvious you still like him and he needs to stop running away so..."

"Scared? Of me?" Dean asks when she trails off.

"Not of you," she replies, shaking her head. "Of how he feels about you. I told you before, that I've helped him through a couple bad break-ups, right?" Dean nods. "He's terrified of having his heart broken again. So much so that he thinks he'd rather avoid you, not give his feelings a chance to get stronger, than let himself get into another serious relationship and risk hurting more later. But he's in as much, maybe even more, pain now than after the break-ups so it's ridiculous to let him go on like this. Especially not when it's hurting you both."

"So, wait. You're saying he's been avoiding me because he _likes_ me?"

"Probably more than likes, I think. I'm sorry, Dean, I really wanted to tell you, and I've been begging him to let me tell you, or to tell you himself, but he wouldn't listen to reason. He's so stubborn; makes me glad I bat for the other team."

Dean manages a chuckle. "Dunno, I've dated both sides and I think chicks are harder to deal with. Though Cas may be an exception."

"Hey, only chicks are allowed to call chicks chicks," Charlie says, smacking Dean on the shoulder playfully.

That actually makes Dean laugh before he lets out a sigh. "So now I know why he's been avoiding me, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it. I mean, I can't force him to talk to me."

"You can try? Maybe fate will find a way to get you two some alone time," she suggests.

"I'll try, but I'm not going to force him to do something he doesn't want to."

"No, of course not, just... maybe help him see there are better ways to deal with his fear?"

"Like I said, I'll try."

"Thanks, Dean," Charlie says, giving him a hug before heading back to her booth.

Going back to his seat, Dean finishes his beer and orders another.

"Dean, if you don't slow down I'll be calling you a cab tonight," Gabe cautions.

"No way am I leaving Baby in your parking lot, Gabe."

"Then take it easy. I know you've got tolerance and it's just beer, but you have the look of someone wanting to get drunk."

Dean sighs, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Yeah, you're right. Switch me to coffee after this one?"

"Sure, Dean," Gabe answers, handing the beer over.

Dean sips, reminding himself that, cab threats aside, if he does manage to get a chance to talk to Cas, he won't be able to if he's drunk. Well, it might be easier, but probably not nearly as coherent as it needs to be. He half-listens to the music, wondering how long it will be before Cas gets to sing. Since Cas and friends had gotten there late, of course it'll be a while before he gets called up. But Dean really wants to hear him sing now, and feels a bit guilty toward Gabe for wishing the karaoke hadn't started drawing such large crowds. And thinking of Gabe, he notes that the bartender is serving drinks on the other side of the bar so Dean takes the opportunity to talk to Sam. "Looks like you and Gabe are getting pretty chatty."

Sam shrugs. "He's... amusing. And it's just talking, since it's not like you're keeping me company."

"Sorry Sammy, I've been a bit distracted. I promise, we can get together tomorrow for lunch or dinner or whatever and be all girly and talk about our feelings," Dean teases.

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Not like you're going to tell me what's really going on with you, right?"

"Just working through something. Anyway, getting back to you and Gabe-"

"What about me and Sam?" Gabe asks, returning from his work.

"Nothing," Dean glares, wondering if the whole night is conspiring against him.

"Let me guess. You were about to warn your little brother that I'm a wolf in sexy clothing and I go home with a different person every night and he should stay the hell away from me, or at the very least use protection when we fuck?" Gabe smirks.

"Basically, but I woulda stopped at stay the hell away from you. Period. You seem to take straight guys as personal challenge."

"Don't worry, Dean, I already told him all that. Besides, he's got his f-"

"I'm still with Jess," Sam cuts Gabe off and Dean raises an eyebrow at him. "I was planning on talking with you about her but it can wait until you're less distracted."

"Sorry, I'm really not trying to ignore you. By the way, you were great, singing," Dean adds, changing the subject.

Sam laughs. "Yeah, right. I was horrible. You were good though. Bit different than hearing you sing along with the radio in the car."

"Well, I don't have an audience in the car."

"Except me."

"Family don't count."

"Family doesn't count? Since when?"

"I meant as an audience," Dean clarifies, head perking up as he hears the dj call Cas to the stage. "Hang on, you gotta hear this. Cas has a voice like an angel," he says, then the rest of the bar fades as he watches Cas move nervously up to the mic. Unable to take his eyes away, Dean stares longingly at Cas as the opening notes of 'Hotel California' by The Eagles start up. The intro's a bit long and Cas shuffles nervously, watching his feet, occasionally glancing to the screen, waiting for his cue. The song's a bit high for his voice, but he still sings it beautifully, barely glancing at the lyrics once he's started singing. Mostly his eyes are closed, gripping the mic tightly as he sways to the music and Dean finds himself drooling just like that first night. Charile and Meg pass by the bar on the way to the door and Charlie gives Dean a wink as they leave. Looking between them and Cas, Dean wonders if they're really just leaving their friend stranded in a bar full of strangers, even knowing how bad Cas is with social situations and on top of the fact that the guy he's been avoiding for four months is here.

When the singing part is over, Cas remains on stage, eyes closed, swaying to the music until the last notes fade away, then puts the mic back, face down and watching his feet as he heads back to his booth. Not having line of sight, Dean can't see Cas's reaction to finding his friends gone, but a minute later he sees Cas rushing for the door. Dean waffles between following him or giving him time, and decides on the former. Even if he doesn't want to see Dean, he can at least try to calm Cas down, 'cause he's probably freaking out at having been left by his best friend.

"Cas," Dean says softly when he finds him standing stiffly next to an empty parking spot, as though the car is invisible or will just magically appear there, back door opening to let him in.

Stance getting even more rigid, Cas refuses to turn around, arms crossing over his chest. "Please leave me alone."

"Cas, talk to me. Please?" Dean begs, reaching a hand toward him but stopping, remembering his touch is unwanted. Or at least, Cas doesn't want to want his touch, the denial amounting to the same thing. "Charlie is worried about you."

"Really? She has a funny way of showing it," Cas growls, glaring at the empty blacktop as though it's to blame for the car not being there.

"Cas... You're trying to avoid letting yourself get hurt but you're hurting yourself to do it. Why not give us a chance since you're hurting just as much denying the connection we have?"

"I'm not," Cas replies softly.

"You can't tell me you're not hurting. I can see it in your eyes. Hell, it hurts me to see you too, especially when you're in pain and you won't let me help."

"I didn't mean that I'm not hurting; I meant I'm not hurting 'just as much' as I would be if I let something develop between us and then lost it, which I would, because no one stays. No one ever stays."

"Cas, I-" Dean starts, but realizes he can't promise forever, no one can, and this is too big a conversation to be having in the middle of a parking lot on a chilly early spring night, especially when Dean didn't grab his coat before running after Cas. "Can I give you a ride home? Please? I'll drop you off at the front door if you want, I won't even get out of the car."

"I'll call a cab," he says, turning and making a wide circle around Dean to head back to the door. "I have another song in, anyway."

Dean watches him go back in, waiting a few minutes to give him time to get back to his seat before following.

"What was that about?" Sam asks as he reclaims his seat.

"Nothing," Dean says, pushing his half-full beer across the bar to Gabe. "Can I get that coffee now?"

"Sure," Gabe says, getting rid of the beer and putting a cup of strong black coffee in front of him, which has probably been sitting on the burner too long but Dean can't really taste the bitterness anyway. And if he could it would just match his mood.

Just before 1:00 am, Cas gets called up for his second song, which turns out to be Simon & Garfunkle's 'The Sound of Silence'. So beautiful, so sad the way Cas sings it, by the end Dean is crying and he doesn't even try to stop or hide the tears, expression daring Sam, Gabe, or anyone else to say a thing about it. No one does. After Cas leaves the stage the dj goes up and sings the last song of the night, though Dean thinks it would've been better for Cas's song to be the last one. As the dj starts singing Seismonic's 'Closing Time' Cas comes up to the bar and asks for one more soda, and to use the phone to call a cab. Gabe pours him a Dr. Pepper and sets the cordless on the bar and Cas reaches into the inside pocket of his coat then stops, eyes widening. Hands fly quickly to pants pockets, back pockets, side pockets of the coat, then back to the inside pocket and through all the others again, distress ramping up at each check.

"Hey, no worries, on the house," Gabe says before Dean can finish getting his own wallet out.

"I can't accept-"

"Yes you can," Gabe insists. "You've been a regular for months and I'm sure that voice of yours has kept some of these customers coming back so think of it as a thank-you for increasing our business, k?"

"Okay, thank you very much," Cas blushes, sliding the phone back across the bar to Gabe. He sits on the nearest barstool and sips his soda, not bothering to take his coat back off.

Dean leans forward so he can watch Cas, who is staring at his drink and looking worried. Charlie must've taken his wallet so he couldn't call himself a cab but Dean has a feeling it'll take more than being stranded without money to get Cas to let him help. "Hey, Sammy, you need a ride back to your hotel?" he asks his brother when Cas is almost done with his drink.

"Nah, I'm good; I got a rental since I'm here for a week."

"Ok, mind if I head out? I promise we can catch up properly tomorrow," Dean asks, sliding off his stool and putting his jacket on as he sees Cas getting up and buttoning his coat.

"Yeah, no worries," Sam smiles, "go take care of what you need to." He would've had to be blind not to notice there was something going on between Dean and Cas and that was what had been distracting his brother.

"Thanks Sammy," Dean says, clapping his brother on the shoulder as he passes and warning under his breath, "And I mean it; watch out for Gabe. Seriously, he's a good guy, but only if you're not screwing him and he has a history of recruiting for the gay pride parade from the straight side of the fence." Sam just rolls his eyes as Dean follows Cas out the door.

Once outside, Dean looks around and sees Cas on the sidewalk, heading in the general direction of his apartment building. "Hey, Cas, wait," he calls, jogging to catch up. Cas just starts walking faster. "You aren't seriously planning on walking home, are you? That's like, 10 miles," he pants as he catches up, matching the swift stride.

"It's 7.6 miles, and it's none of your business," comes the brisk reply.

"It _is_ my business, Cas, I'm worried about you, and not just about you walking for miles, alone, in the middle of the night either." Without thinking, he grabs Cas's arm with the intention of making him stop and look at him.

Cas flinches, pulling away from Dean and catching up against the grey-painted cinder block wall of a Salvation Army.

"Sorry! Sorry," Dean says, holding his hand up and taking a step back, making his presence as non-threatening as possible without letting Cas run away. "Look, at least let me drive you home. It'd be stupid for us to walk the whole way."

"What 'us'?"

"We're going to talk, one way or the other. Or at least, I'm going to talk. If I have to do it while we're walking, however long it takes to get there from here, then I will. But if you let me drive you then you only have to listen for fifteen minutes or so."

Arms crossed over his chest defensively, Cas stares at Dean in silence that stretches long enough for Dean to wonder if he should just start talking now, comfort and privacy be damned. Then Cas's shoulders sag and he sighs. "Fine," he says, heading back toward the parking lot of the Blue Diamond. Dean follows, then speeds up to get a few feet ahead so he can lead the way to the Impala, unlocking the passenger door and leaving it open for Cas before going to the driver's side and getting in himself, patting the dash and turning the key in the ignition to get the heater started on warming up. Cas comes to the passenger side and looks at the seat warily, then gets in but doesn't close the door, looking like he's debating between closing it or bolting.

"Cas, no power locks. And the windows roll down. I couldn't trap you in here even if I wanted to, which I don't. What did I do to make you mistrust me so much?"

Rolling the window down a crack first, apparently just to make sure it works, Cas closes the door and puts on his seatbelt. "Nothing," he mumbles, then adds under his breath, "yet."

Noticing the tips of Cas's ears are red, from cold this time, not embarrassment, Dean holds a hand over the vent to see if it's warm yet. It isn't. Making sure the temperature is set as hot as it'll go, he leaves the fan on the lowest setting and checks for cars before backing out.

"Ok, Cas, hear me out," he says once they've pulled onto the street. "I know you're scared, and don't get mad at Charlie; she's just worried about you," he adds when Cas starts to interject. "I can't promise you forever; no one can. Life doesn't work that way. And I can't promise that I won't screw up; that I won't do or say the wrong thing and make you mad at me, or scared. But if you live your life in fear of what could happen, you'll miss out on all the good things. It's normal to want stability, safety, to be in control of everything, but there just aren't any guarantees in life."

"I-"

"Please, let me finish," he says as he turns the fan up to blow the finally warmed heat into the car, and continues when Cas doesn't say anything. "I can't say for sure how I'll feel tomorrow, or next month, or next year. Hell, I can't even promise I'll be alive, because accidents happen and life is transient. I could get hit by a bus, or crushed under a car I'm working on, or electrocuted, or any number of things. The only thing I _can_ promise is that I haven't been able to get you outta my head for the past four months. I haven't even felt the remotest urge to look for a hook-up and believe me, for me, that's not just unusual, it's unheard of. I don't think I've gone this long without getting laid since I was fifteen. But I haven't wanted anyone else since I first saw you; or maybe since I first heard you sing. And I think we really have a shot at something special here, if you'll just take a chance on me; on us. Hell, I don't know much about dating; only ever had one serious relationship before, but I really, _really_ want to try. With you. I swear I'll do everything I can not to hurt you if you just give me a chance," he concludes as they pull up to the light two streets before Cas's apartment building. He reaches tentatively toward Cas, and when he doesn't flinch, Dean brushes the back of his fingers lightly over his cheek.

Cas is silent, staring at the red light until it turns green, then as Dean checks for traffic and starts the car moving forward Cas says, voice strained, "Pull into the garage."

Dean has to break a bit harder than he likes to make the turn, having been planning on dropping Cas in front of the building. But he manages to swing through the garage entrance and crawls along the rows, looking for a space.

"Top level," Cas instructs.

Shrugging, Dean goes a little faster, circling the rows until he comes to the last level which is nearly void of cars, and starts to pull in next to the stairs.

"Not here," Cas says, shaking his head, "further down."

Wondering what Cas is thinking, Dean continues on, 'til he's near the end of the row, no other cars around. "This ok?" he asks.

"Yes," Cas replies, unbuckling his seatbelt as Dean pulls in and puts her in park. Soon as the car is stopped, Cas climbs onto Dean's lap, straddling him. His ass lands on the steering wheel, accidentally sounding the horn and he jumps as the loud honk echoes through the nearly empty level. They look at each other in stunned silence for a moment, then both burst out laughing. Dean reaches down and hits the lever to slide the seat back as far as it'll go and then Cas is kissing him with abandon, hips rocking with need against Dean's lap, like four months of missed time is trying to happen all at once.

Not wanting to discourage him, and very much enjoying the aggressive attention, Dean returns the kiss, tongues and hands getting in on the act. Cas can't seem to get enough, as though the walls he's kept around him have blown away like a house of cards and he's trying to bury himself in Dean to find the safety he's lost. Arms wrapping around Cas, Dean holds him close, both protective and tender. Gradually, the urgency fades, kiss becoming less frenzied, hips rocking more slowly. Feeling movement by his waist, hearing the sound of a zipper, Dean tries to break off to mention they're outside, in a public parking garage, where anyone could see them. But Cas's left hand digs into Dean's hair, holding him to the mercy of his slow, passionate kisses as his right hand continues its work, unfastening his own pants and pulling both their hard lengths out, then stroking them together. Sweat and pre-cum are barely enough lubricant but it feels so good just being with Cas that Dean can't bring himself to care. They're both swallowing each other's moans, hips rocking up into Cas's hand, Dean's arms tight around him like he's never gonna let go. Tightening his grip, Cas speeds his movement as need escalates.

"Dean," Cas moans, finally breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against Dean's as he pants.

Dean wraps a hand around Cas's, not to control the speed or pressure but just to be bringing each other off together. Cas whimpers, speeding up even more, and then he shudders, hand stroking through his come as it continues to work, making the slide easier, and then Dean is coming too, crying Cas's name as he releases the need that has been pent up way too long. They stay that way for a long while, foreheads pressed together, just holding each other, trying to ignore the sticky mess that's starting to seep through their shirts and into their underwear.

After a while Dean brushes their lips together, tightening his arm around Cas's waist to keep him from falling off as he leans over and forward, barely managing to open the glovebox and dig out the fast food napkins that always seem to accumulate there. Then he settles back into the seat and begins cleaning them up, grimacing when he realizes they've dirtied the seatbelt too since he hadn't had time to unbuckle before the, very pleasurable, surprise attack. Once they're clean, he looks back up at Cas and smiles, resting their foreheads together again. "So..." he grins.

"So..." Cas repeats sheepishly.

"So that's a thing that happened."

Blushing, Cas buries his face against Dean's neck. "Sorry," he mumbles softly, "you touched me."

Thinking back, Dean tries to remember which touch he's talking about. "When?"

"At the light."

That's right, he had brushed his fingers over Cas's cheek. "So this all came from that little touch?"

Cas tries to burrow further into Dean. "Maybe a little from what you said, too."

Tightening his arms around Cas, Dean says, "So does this mean you're willing to give me a shot?"

Shrug. "Maybe? I don't know. I'm still scared, but I think you and Charlie were right. I've been miserable. I might still be miserable, even if we... get together, or whatever. Part of me will be waiting for the other shoe to drop, knowing I'm going to be alone again, but... right now is the first time I haven't been miserable in four months, and as much as it scares me, if you're willing to take a chance on me..."

"Cas, if you'll have me, I'm yours. But please, no more running away. From anything. I know it's not easy for you to talk about things sometimes, but please try?"

"I'll try. And if there's something I can't discuss with you, I'll talk to Charlie and if it's something you need to know she can tell you. I trust her judgment better than mine. After all, I think she was right about you."

Smiling, Dean pulls Cas in for a slow, tender kiss. "So does this mean we're a couple now?"

Cas blushes. "If you're okay with that, yeah."

"I'm way more than ok with that," Dean grins, hugging him closer.

"Do you... do you want to spend the night?" Cas asks shyly.

"Definitely," Dean assures. "But are you sure you're ok with that? We don't have to move faster than you're comfortable with, as long as there's a 'we'."

"Last time, I was just startled because I don't normally wake up pressed against someone. Actually, I don't think I've ever woken up that way. But the way you responded was perfect. I was already mostly calmed down when I remembered... thought about... I realized how I felt and it was so strong, it scared me and I reacted... well, you know."

"Yeah, I know. And I understand, now."

"So, coming?" Cas asks, opening the driver's door and climbing out, stretching the kinks from his legs.

Dean shuts the ignition off, unbuckles, leans over and locks the passenger door then gets out, grinning at Cas as he does up his jeans. "Not at the moment, but maybe later?" he teases as he locks and closes the driver's door.

For a minute Cas looks confused, then laughs. Dean fastens Cas's pants too, then laces their fingers together and leads him toward the stairs.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry it's a bit longer than i'd intended, with a lot less smut than i'd wanted, but that's where dean pulled the curtain. will there be more? probably more destiel, Definitely more sabriel. planning on starting that one next.
> 
> also, on the note dean left for cas here, I put an actual phone number. note to writers: Don't Do That. very troublesome for the phone companies. however, in this case, this was dean's number as shown in the actual show, so it's already been taken outta use. apparently, if you'd called it back around the time the ep showing it first aired, you'd actually get a recording of dean's voicemail. yays for research hehe.
> 
> one other note, the bee mug that dean uses near the beginning? 's not a thing, as far as I know, but it needs to bee! they could sell it on the supernatural merch site, which I think actually is a thing; not positive though.
> 
> and one other other note, as usual, this was only proof read by me, so corrections, suggestions and comments welcome and encouraged :D


End file.
